His limited first aid knowledge was limited to applying band-aids to wounds and disinfecting with mercurochrome. At most, he knew to tilt his head back when he had a nosebleed. Faced with these two expert-level injured people, he didn't even know who to save first or how to proceed.
"Water! Yes! Water!"
He suddenly remembered the magical stream he had drunk from before.
"They need some water!"
He grasped at this as if it were a lifeline, and turned to run back to get some water.
But after running two steps, he froze again.
How to feed it?
Use leaves to scoop it up?
It'll probably leak light before we even get there.
With your mouth... Ptooey! Don't even think about it!
Moreover, the fairy's place is freezing cold; wouldn't the water freeze into a block of ice if it went there?
It's so hot over there at the witch's place, won't they just evaporate?
Besides, do immortals... need to drink water?
Must the water they drink be some kind of nectar? Even if the stream water is sweet, will it be effective?
Zhang Shaozhong once again fell into a deep sense of powerlessness.
He had a heart that wanted to save people, but he had absolutely no ability or method to do so.
This sense of frustration made him feel extremely uncomfortable.
He stood there dumbfounded between the two large pits, looking at the two stunningly beautiful women who were unconscious and whose fate was unknown, smelling the increasingly thick, sweet pink mist in the air, feeling like a fool.
As time passed, the pink fog seemed to grow thicker, and visibility decreased.
The sweet smell kept wafting into his nose, and Zhang Shaozhong felt his head getting dizzier and dizzier, a bit like he was drunk. His body was getting hotter and hotter, and he was inexplicably starting to feel irritable, and a bit... strangely restless.
He shook his head, trying to stay awake.
"No...we can't just stand here...we have to do something..."
He muttered to himself, forcing himself to move.
He first ran to a slightly farther place and picked up some relatively intact, large leaves, and then found some flexible vines.
He carefully avoided the cold and scorching areas, strung the leaves together with vines, and made two incredibly simple yet enormous "leaf umbrellas." He placed them outside the pits of the white-clad fairy and the black-clad witch, respectively, to provide them with some shelter—although he didn't know if immortals needed shade or protection from the rain, this was the only physically feasible thing he could think of.
After doing all this, he was so exhausted that he plopped down on the ground, panting heavily.
Looking at his childish and ridiculous "rescue measures," and then at the two women in the pit who were still showing no signs of improvement and whose breathing seemed to be getting weaker, Zhang Shaozhong was filled with frustration and despair.
"What should I do... what should I do..."
He held his head in his hands, almost crying.
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